[Max B]WE MAKE HITS IN THE STUDIO NIGHTLY, WE OUT TRYNA GET THIS MONEYYYYYYYYYYYY (Tryna Get it)WE TAKE TRIPS IN THE WINTER IN JET PLANES, IN THE CLIMATES WHERE IT'S SUNNYYYYYYY (MIA)WE GOT MAMI ON THE DANCE FLOOR GRINDIN TO THE BEAT, TIPSY OFF THE BUBBLYYYYYYY (BUBBLY)BUT AT THE END OF THE DAY, YOUR FRIEND IN THE PLAY....I'M TRYNA PIN THE TAIL ON THE DONKEYYYY!

[Verse 1: Jim Jones]It goes Yes Yes Y'all-ing (b-boy boys), fresh to death balling (BALLLLLINNNN!)...you can play hard under pressure, I'm scoring (swish!)They playing tight D (uh huh), play the paint like a G (boxed out)...and some say they gangsta's but they ain't like me (not at all!)I came from an environment (uh huh), 'caine I was frying it (bricks)...then hit the dealer, see the Range I was buying it (it's nothing!)We don't test drive (uh huh), buy the whole whip like you should (fuck a lease!)...cheffin' up pies, a whole brick like you shouldThen take the proceeds, waste about 4 G's (balling)...buy bottles in the club, tryna get the older skeez (gettin twisted!)I'm tryna get the dame to breeze....but she putting up a fight like Laila Ali (and what's ya name nigga?!)I told the lady I be...doing the turnpike, eighty in a fly V (WHAT ELSE?!)Middle name "forty on the wrist"last name "you can't afford me bitch!" get a camcorder bitch! (YEAH!)

[HOOK]

[Verse 2: Juelz Santana]Case is a Perryay Rose (yep!)look like Picasso painted on the bottle (haha)We throwing money we looking like Lotto (you see it)I could cover chicks with cheese like nacho'sFly out the cold (cold), land in the heat (where?)New York to Miami Beach (yeah)Bitch I live the life of a hood-starrock-star without the gui-tar got em all rubbing they push-bra (AWWWWW)Got em all shaking they tush likeI'mma give em a taste of the good life (nope!)But I'll give em a taste of the good liquora taste of that good bud, next thing you know she be tasteing of my good UHHHHHHHHHH!I get money, be quiet....you talking to the Jolly Green GiantI see it, I like it, I buy it babyI'm flyer than a pilot flying at his highest, climate

[HOOK]

[Verse 3: Cam'ron]WHERE MY HOOOMIIIIIIIES? UP TO NO GOODWHERE MY HOOOMIIIIIIIES? YEP, I'M SO HOODUh...What up pimpin pimpin? (what up pimpin!)I'm exec already (fuck that!)See my hoes are like my plates...temporary (out of here)I ignore ya, beat it (beat it), move more strategic (strategic)The marble's mad yep, the floors are heated (in other words)Cam half pound a quarter key it (key it)better ask 'round soon they'll need a Mac round, enjoy the scenicIn the ninety's Z3's, BB's now in the crib TV's watch TV(flat screens watch flat screens)Killa killa more killing and then the kitty purs (meeeeow)...fuck furs, his and hers, Bentley Spurs (that's a fact)Gun talk real talk speak Mac to Mac (mac), we like the Pistons, Bulls...you know back to back (back to back CHAMPS!)Maesarati's back to back come ride with meon 1100 not the bike....two 550's!KILLA!